Your Everyday Ordinary Witch
by Arethusa the Nymph
Summary: Lizzy's always been the unremarkable one. But when she's suddenly invited to Hogwarts, she realizes that maybe she can be extraordinary, too. Set in an alternate seventh year timeline. Involves Gryffindor/Slytherin friendship and related pairings.
1. The Letter

For clarification purposes:  
>This story takes place in a Harry Potter <em>fanverse<em>, made up by my sister and myself.  
>For the purposes of the fanverse, the timeline and canon has been altered slightly.<br>This is most likely due to the fact that we created the fanverse shortly after reading the fifth/sixth books.  
>The alterations are not extreme; many things are predominantly as they are in the books, just shifted slightly to change timelinesslightly edit accepted canon.  
>Importantly, the entire war takes place during the summer after sixth yearbefore seventh year, spurred by Dumbledore's "death."

More will be revealed as you read.

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><p><strong>All Harry Potter-related charactersplaces/etc. copyright J.K.  
><strong>(Original characters belong to me).

_"Where there is perfection, there is no story to tell."_

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><p><strong>Your Everyday Ordinary Witch<br>**An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

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><p><strong>Chapter One: <strong>The Letter

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><p>Elisabeth Saunderson was really quite ordinary.<p>

She was seventeen, and neither stunningly brilliant, nor gifted with any peculiar talents.  
>Though she <em>could<em> cook, she often burned things, and her baking was predictably average.  
>Her hair behaved on some days, and not on others.<br>Her wardrobe was not particularly fashionable.

She was unremarkably pretty. People never remembered her face.  
>In fact, she often had to re-introduce herself, even to those who had known her since childhood.<br>Her body shape was girl-proportioned and just as unremarkable.  
>Some clothes looked terrible on her. Some didn't.<p>

She was ordinary.

Her sisters were _amazing_.

Celenia was the oldest. At twenty-six, she'd already distinguished herself as one of the Paracelsus Patrons' "Preeminent Promising Potions Masters of the Planet." Years prior, while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she'd earned outstandings on most, if not all of her O.W.L.s. Upon finishing her N.E.W.T.s, she was awarded special distinction in Potions by Professor Snape himself.

In addition to her academic talents, Celenia was gentle, kind, and gorgeous. She was always poised, always presentable, and never raised her voice. Elisabeth imagined that Celenia was the perfect lady. The dictionary might as well include her picture next to the word.

Isabel was in the middle. She was just twenty-one, but overflowing with impossible dreams and grand schemes. She'd been a Broom Maker and a Curse Breaker, had a stint with Magical Law Enforcement, tried amateur Potioneering, took up Metal Charming, and recently gave up Dragon Feeding because the fumes were really starting to get to her. Though decidedly average in her marks at Hogwarts, Isabel's vibrant personality afforded her dynamic social success. She had connections all over the wizarding world.

Of course she was beautiful, too, but it was a different kind of beauty. Her hair wasn't perfectly coifed and flowing like Celenia's; it was curly and untamed and left to do its own thing. She often wore overalls and cutoff jeans, and her hands-on attitude had left many of her outfits threadbare and tattering. But she didn't care. She laughed it off; that was what made Isabel enchanting.

* * *

><p>It would, of course, be perfectly natural to assume that Elisabeth was jealous of her sisters.<br>(They were exceptional; she was not.)

But Elisabeth _wasn't _jealous. She knew that others expected her to be jealous. She even expected herself to be jealous sometimes, when Celenia came home with some new honor, or Isabel showed her the loot from another unbelievable adventure.

But she never was.

Elisabeth was proud. She was proud to be a Saunderson, and share the name with her sisters. She was happy to be the simple one, the regular one; the one who stayed behind, perfectly pleased to do nothing particularly remarkable. When they were little, she was more than happy to play school and be the student while Celenia was the teacher. And she was happy to be the sidekick when Isabel was the superhero.

She was always happy.

But then her eleventh birthday came, and a certain letter did not.

Elisabeth acted like she was still happy. She stood with her mother and held Celenia's hand as they watched Isabel board the Hogwarts Express for her fifth year, joining her horde of laughing friends. Elisabeth smiled at her and waved goodbye, and went on to regular secondary school. She made Muggle friends. She didn't tell Celenia about the first-year wizarding schoolbooks she'd stolen from the attic to read before bed at night.

Her twelfth birthday came. Elisabeth hoped there had been a mistake, that maybe her letter had been delayed a year. She'd heard of other people going to school late. Perhaps it worked for wizard school, too. But the letter never came. Elisabeth should have known that Hogwarts wouldn't make such a mistake, but still. She didn't feel quite as happy to watch Isabel leave for her sixth year, skipping onto the train with a boy in tow. She went up to the attic and stole Isabel's old books from second year.

Thirteen. Still no letter. Elisabeth had lost all hope in mistakes. She couldn't even pretend to smile when Isabel left for her final year at Hogwarts. All she could do was stare as the train pulled out of the station. She tried very hard not to cry.

Then fourteen, and something happened that was even worse. Her mother died. As the oldest, Celenia did the best she could to help her sisters through the loss. Isabel ran away, afraid to stay at home. Elisabeth grew quiet and wondered why bad things happen to people who have done absolutely nothing to deserve them. She skipped a lot of class. Her teachers sent worried notes home with her.

Fifteen. In order to pay the bills, Celenia opened an in-home apothecary, and began to instruct private potions lessons. Elisabeth spent a lot of time away from home, which was probably best, though sometimes she stayed out quite late with her friends. Celenia worried about her, but she felt overwhelmed by other things, like the storm that seemed to be growing on the wizarding horizon. There was a lot of commotion around the Ministry, and she didn't tell Elisabeth. Elisabeth didn't ask.

Sixteen. Isabel came home on the premise to help her sisters, when really, she was afraid. So was Celenia. The storm was brewing into a tempest, but still the elder sisters tried to keep it a secret from the youngest. Elisabeth thought of Hogwarts only when she read her stolen schoolbooks, or saw the magic things happening in the kitchen. Sometimes she sat in on Celenia's lessons, which had suddenly seemed to become even more private. Witches and wizards snuck in and out of the house, when before they'd knocked like regular people. It all seemed very strange. She had to be careful not to accidentally invite any friends home from school.

* * *

><p>Mostly, Elisabeth was tired.<p>

She was tired of school.

She was tired of being ordinary.

She was tired of secrets, because even though she wasn't magic, she still had to help her sisters hide _their_ magic.

"I'm not even a witch," she'd privately sigh to her pillow. "But I still have to keep secrets. How is that fair?"

Some nights, she'd downright cry.

Lots of times, Celenia walked in to find her sobbing, either about their mother, or about how unfair it was to be a Muggle.

Celenia's voice was soothing. "Mom was a Muggle," she'd croon. "There's nothing wrong with being a Muggle."

"But I don't want to be!" Elisabeth knew she was whining. She knew her nose was runny. But she didn't care.

Celenia looked at her with balanced and loving eyes. She held out a kerchief.

"I can tutor you, if you want." She'd offered this in the past.

Every time, Elisabeth felt patronized by the offer. She was not as well-balanced as Celenia. "You know how I feel about that," she muttered.

Celenia sighed, but it was not a frustrated sigh. Celenia was never frustrated.

"I just want to help you feel better. I love you." She stroked a hand through Elisabeth's ordinary curls.

"I love you, too, Celenia," Elisabeth sighed. Elisabeth's sigh was the resigned kind of sigh. The kind that hides words, like "whatever" and "yeah, I know."

Celenia was quiet for a moment. "It's not so great to be a witch right now, you know."

Elisabeth looked up at her sister through wet lashes, feeling skeptical. "Oh, no?"

Celenia shook her head. "No."

"Why?"

Celenia sighed. She supposed it was about time to tell her, anyway.

Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "He's back. You-know-who."

Elisabeth shivered. She stared at Celenia.

For a whole minute they stared at each other.

Elisabeth thought of all the things she knew about the wizarding world.  
>Then she thought about all of the things she didn't know.<p>

She shuddered.

"Don't worry," Celenia was murmuring. She pulled Elisabeth back into her arms. "You have me. And Isabel. We'll watch over you."

Elisabeth snuggled into her sister's shoulder. Then an uncomfortable thought occurred to her.

She pulled away from Celenia's embrace, looking steadily into her eyes. "How long have you known?"

"A while." Celenia looked away. "I didn't want to burden you."

Elisabeth sighed. "It's not a burden. It's the truth."

"Sometimes the truth can be a burden," whispered Celenia.

Elisabeth shivered. They were quiet again for a while. Then, she asked, "What can we do?"

Celenia gathered her little sister into her arms again, cuddling her close.

"I don't think there's anything we can do, except wait."

Elisabeth felt a few hot tears soak into the shoulder of her sweater.

They weren't her own.

* * *

><p>Elisabeth felt helpless.<p>

Never before had she wished so fiercely to be a witch.

Isabel wanted to go join the fight. Celenia wouldn't let her. Even though Elisabeth knew that Celenia would have stopped her, too, she wished she could try. She dreamt of helping, of fighting. Of becoming a hero.

It was unbearable to go to school.

Everyone continued on with their lives, acting as though nothing was happening. Elisabeth wanted to shout at them. She hated how they carried on, laughing, kissing, fighting, taking their petty issues up with each other while people were out there dying. One day, when a boy she'd liked came up to her after school, she barely paid him any attention. He told her how beautiful she was. He asked her out. She thanked him for his attentions and walked away, distracted by her dread of the evening's news of the war. The boy was flabbergasted.

Then school was over, and the summer had begun.

Time drifted slowly, slowly, clouded and dark. There was little good news.

Mixed reports reached the Saunderon household, either through the few brave wizards who dared to continue Celenia's lessons, or those they encountered occassionally on the street. Everyone looked grave. Everything seemed dim. There was no way to tell if any of the efforts for good were making headway at all. There was barely any way to tell how much had truly happened.

* * *

><p>Then, suddenly, it was over.<p>

He was gone.

* * *

><p>A few days after Elisabeth's seventeenth birthday, Isabel came inside with a huge pile of mail. Carefully dodging Celenia's standing potions, she plopped down at the kitchen table, tossed the papers in the middle, and started methodically tearing through them. Elisabeth watched from across the pile, occasionally looking up from Celenia's old <em>Guide to Advanced Transfiguration<em>.

Most of the mail was rejection letters. Many wizard organizations would not accept Isabel's services of Metal Charming, predominantly due to the fact that she had no experience. But that hadn't stopped her from applying to at least fifteen places.

"Never give up," she laughed, tearing into the fifth rejection letter. "That's my motto."

Celenia was hunched over a potion in the corner of the room. "Is there anything in there for me?" Her soft voice sounded vaguely hopeful.

Isabel thumbed through the parchment. "Nah, not that I can see."

Celenia sighed. "He told me he'd write this week."

Elisabeth looked over at her and frowned. "Who?"

Isabel was still talking. " ... but here's something for, uh … Elisabeth … ?" She pulled out a wide envelope.

Elisabeth turned to her lazily, expecting some kind of recruitment material. Loads of unremarkable occupations seemed to want to hire her lately. "What is it?"

Isabel was staring at the envelope in disbelief. "This has to be a mistake." Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

"Just give it to me already."

She reached across the table and snatched the envelope out of her sister's hands, flipping it around so she could read the emerald green lettering:

_Ms E. Saunderson  
>The Third Room on the Right<br>10 Rabbit Ramble  
>Hove<br>East Sussex_

Her hands were shaking, but she didn't need to open the letter. She knew what it was.

"Why now?" Isabel wondered out loud. But Elisabeth didn't care.

It was finally here.

Her letter had finally come.

* * *

><p><strong>There we go. Nice and edited.<br>Now the later chapters will actually make sense!**


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**Your Everyday Ordinary Witch  
><strong>An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>: The Hogwarts Express

* * *

><p>Often, not every part of a story needs to be told.<p>

Therefore, it isn't important to explain every detail of the Saunderson sisters' hurried preparations for Elisabeth's year at Hogwarts.

Celenia and Isabel both had seven full years at the school, so they knew very well what to expect. And Elisabeth had read plenty of books. She obviously kept up with current events. She knew all about the world in which she wanted to live, and she was more than ready to become a part of it. In any case, it would be boring to go through all of the sisters' arguments and discussions. No one likes to get involved in unnecessary family discussions.

It is also unnecessary to fret about the reasoning behind the letter's sudden arrival. Wizards don't abide by usual reasoning. Perhaps, then, the letter arrived at the exact perfect moment. Perhaps, if it had arrived any earlier, Elisabeth would not have been quite ready to accept. And indeed, the war had changed her feelings about many things. She may have believed she was ready to be a witch before, but sometimes we feel ready for things, when, in fact, we are not.

The moment Elisabeth saw that letter, she knew. She was ready now.

She was ready to go to Hogwarts.

Even so, Elisabeth couldn't sleep at all the night of August thirtieth. Her entire life was about to change. _Finally_ she would be an official witch. _Finally_ she would feel as though she fit in with her sisters. She'd be able to contribute to the world she loved, to the world she wanted to be a part of. She wouldn't be a Muggle.

But she couldn't help thinking about how strange the letter's arrival had been. She knew it probably didn't matter, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Why had it been so delayed? Did it have something to do with the war? But the war hadn't happened till later. Couldn't she have been a part of the regular Hogwarts experience? For the third or fourth time in her life, she felt truly jealous of her sisters. Incredibly jealous. And even though she knew logically that it didn't matter, that she'd probably fit in _somewhere_ and be able to make friends perfectly well, she couldn't help feeling apprehensive.

They'd been through an entire _war_ together, and here she was, barging in.

* * *

><p>On the morning of September first, Elisabeth Saunderson re-checked her packed trunk to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She smoothed her sweaters and school robes, re-folded her winter cloak, stuffed in an extra scarf, and checked to be sure her newly-purchased wand (twelve inches, pine, unicorn hair core; quite versatile) was packed safely in its box. She'd tried to learn the basics before she left, just to make sure she wasn't a total squib. As it turned out, Celenia was a fantastic teacher, which wasn't surprising at all.<p>

On the train ride from Hove to Kings Cross, Elisabeth leaned against Celenia's shoulder and considered the future.

"What do you suppose it will be like? Coming to Hogwarts so late, after so much has happened?"

Celenia rubbed her back. "Oh, I suppose it'll be like any strange new situation, at first. But you'll get used to it. You'll work your way in."

Elisabeth knew it was silly to worry about academics at this point, but she did. She bit her lip. "But how do you think I'll _do?_"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that. You learn fast." She was quiet for a moment, considering. "You already know all of the basics, and you started picking up quite a few intermediate spells when we went over them. I'd say you are well on your way to being intermediate, which would put you at just the bottom of your class."

Elisabeth groaned. "I hate being at the bottom."

She liked the middle. In the middle, no one noticed you. But at the bottom or the top, you were always bound to be noticed.

Celenia was still talking. "And besides, you've been exposed to magic your whole life. You'll be fine. You will catch up." She squeezed Elisabeth's shoulder. "Really, don't worry about your marks at first. They will fall in to place. You really _do_ learn fast. You remind me of me."

Elisabeth could tell that Celenia was smiling. She rolled her eyes, but blushed all the same. That was definitely a compliment.

* * *

><p>Finally, at ten thirty, the train pulled into the Kings Cross station. Celenia had to rouse Elisabeth from her nap, which left her incredibly disturbed. She'd had a bizarre dream, in which she'd been awarded the extremely alliterative "Supremely Successful Sister of Celenia" honor by someone misshapen who was probably supposed to be Professor Snape.<p>

They collected Elisabeth's luggage, and exited the train to search for Platform nine and three-quarters.

She knew what to expect between Platforms nine and ten: a solid metal barrier. She'd seen Isabel walk through it at least twice. And she knew that behind that barrier was the platform she was searching for. But she still closed her eyes as she dashed toward it, towing her trunk.

Then, suddenly, there was the great scarlet Hogwarts Express, billowing smoke.

She stared at it in awe. It was finally _hers_.

She looked back at the barrier.

Celenia was just walking through the invisible iron archway. She hugged her. "I'm so excited," Celenia murmured. "You are going to learn so much."

Elisabeth squeezed her sister back. "I just wish Isabel could be here."

"I know. But you know how much she identifies herself with jobs."

Elisabeth nodded, and Celenia continued. "She really wants to try for this Obliviator position. She can't think of anything else to do. And apparently she's got a good connection in the Ministry." Celenia shrugged.

Elisabeth frowned at her. "But … she supposedly has 'good connections' everywhere."

Her sister laughed. "You're right."

"... Or so she says?"

They giggled. They both loved their sister very much, but that didn't negate her frequent silliness.

"Alright, Lizzy. You're going to have to go now."

Elisabeth sighed. "I'm going to miss you."

"Don't worry. I'll come visit you. I have old friends at Hogwarts." Her eyes unfocused. "It's long overdue for me to see them."

Elisabeth pulled her sister into her arms again. "I'm still going to miss seeing you _every day_," she murmured into Celenia's shoulder.

Celenia smiled. "Me too, little one. Me too." She patted her sister on the shoulder. "Now, grab your trunk, and get on that train."

* * *

><p>Now, she was all alone in the noisy, clattering corridor of the Hogwarts Express, leaning against her luggage.<p>

"Well," she sighed. "Here I am."

After bumping into a food trolley, tripping over a renegade toad, trampling a stray set of dress robes, and nearly falling completely out of a train-car, Elisabeth came across a relatively empty compartment. It was "relatively empty" because there were a few trunks of luggage already piled inside. Luckily, there was room for at least one more. The owners of the other trunks had left for some reason, making it pleasantly devoid of people for the moment. Elisabeth slipped inside. She'd deal with the problem of their coming back later, and besides, she could do with some train-friends. Finding a bare spot for her trunk, she sat down on the corresponding bare section of seat, and took in her surroundings.

In spite of the constant clatter, the compartment felt very serene. It was almost as though she had been invited into it.

She sighed.

Finally, on the way to Hogwarts. What a thought.

Especially after this summer.

Suddenly, something hooted softly beside her. She turned to notice a dome-shaped object on the bench, draped with a sheet of red, cottony material. It hooted again, and she couldn't resist the urge to pry back an edge of the soft curtain, revealing a beautiful snowy owl in an antique wire cage. The bird had smart golden eyes that took in every detail of her face. It hooted again, cocking its pretty head at her. She smiled, wondering what it was thinking.

"You are beautiful," she murmured. She peeked around the compartment to make sure no one was coming back, craning her neck to look out the windowed door. Then she quickly unlatched the wire door to the cage, and slipped her fingers inside to tickle the birds soft, delicate breast. It closed its eyes and hooted softly, raising a talon and clenching it endearingly. "You are just lovely," she breathed. She stroked the soft feathers, admiring the tiny, irregular black spots, and wished that she had her own owl. An owl would be useful. Celenia usually rented them, citing the care costs of owning one. But Elisabeth loved birds, and she'd always thought she was responsible enough to own one. Plus, many Hogwarts students had their own owls. Maybe she could convince Celenia to send her one.

Suddenly, the owl's head turned around, facing almost the direct opposite direction as its body.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Startled, Elisabeth pulled her hand back and fumbled the latch closed, looking up. Somebody was standing in the doorway, staring at her. She brushed her bangs from her face, staring wide-eyed at the stranger.

He was a young man, about her age, who was really quite handsome, in the next-door kind of way. He was tall, and lean, with a mess of thick black locks, and his eyebrows were arched up in surprise, drawing attention to his startling green eyes. She saw that his jaw was clenched.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What are you doing in here?" He was clutching his wand very tightly.

"My name's Elisabeth. Elisabeth Saunder…" She broke off, staring at him. "Wait a minute." She frowned. "Where do I know you from?"

He sighed.

Elisabeth just stared at him. "I'm serious. I can't place it." How did she know him? She only knew the witches and wizards who came to buy Celenia's potions and private lessons. Had he come to one of those? "I _know_ I know you from somewhere. Please tell me," she begged.

He smiled a private smile. "I don't think I will. This hasn't happened in a long time."

"Did you come buy a potion from my sister?"

"No."

"… Did you take a lesson with her?"

He smiled wider. "No." He chuckled. "This is hilarious."

Elisabeth groaned. "Oh, fine."

He laughed. Then he gestured to the birdcage. "I noticed you playing with Hedwig, here. She's my owl."

"She's a very beautiful bird," Elisabeth said, blushing.

He came over and picked up Hedwig's cage, setting it on top of a trunk. His trunk, Elisabeth supposed. He sat where the cage used to be, meeting Elisabeth's eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Elisabeth laughed. "Sure."

"Why haven't I ever seen you before?"

Elisabeth felt strange, but she told the truth. It was all she knew. "I never got a letter from Hogwarts. Not until this year. Both of my sisters did, but not me."

He stared at her. "What? Really?"

"Yeah. I thought … Well, I thought I wasn't a witch, you know? I mean, what else would you think in that kind of situation?" He nodded at her, his brow furrowing.

"That's really strange. Especially after ... well, all that's happened this summer."

"I know." She sighed.

He paused, then asked: "do you know why it finally came?"

Elisabeth laughed again, feeling awkward. "No, actually. I don't…"

"What year are you?"

" ... Seventh."

He could tell she was uncomfortable, so he dropped the subject.

She could tell that he wanted to ask more questions. But it was no use. If he asked any more questions, they'd both end up more confused than before.

"Hey…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Can I ask you one more question?"

Elisabeth grinned. "Sure you can."

"Why does your voice sound … different?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You say some words all wonky. I can't figure it out."

This time, Elisabeth laughed. "Oh, I learned English in America. That's where my dad was from." Elisabeth smiled, remembering her hazy, almost distant childhood. "We moved to Hove when I was six, after he got sick."

"Ah. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Oh, no, it's okay. Really." She shrugged. "I was little. There was nothing we could do."

He had a strange look in his eye, so she smiled at him, hoping to deflect any more questions.

He smiled back at her.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment burst open, and a tall, lanky, ginger boy toppled in.

"Harry! You'll never guess what I—" he stopped, having spotted Elisabeth. "Who's she?" he asked, not bothering to address her.

"Her name's Elisabeth. She's a new seventh year."

"Really? Brilliant!" He plopped down on the bench across from her and stared at her with eager blue eyes. "What is she suddenly doing here for?"

But Elisabeth was staring at Harry, who had a slow smile stretching across his face.

"Harry," she gasped. "Oh my god. You're Harry Potter!"

He laughed. "Yeah, that's me."

The ginger laughed, too. "She didn't know who you were? How long were the two of you talking?"

Harry grinned. "A bit." Elisabeth was still staring at Harry.

But the ginger was still talking. "Nice. Wait until Hermione…"

"'Wait until Hermione' what?" came a bossy female voice. Elisabeth looked up.

A girl was standing in the doorway. She looked curious and confused as she surveyed the three people in the compartment.

Elisabeth surveyed her back. She had a mass of bushy brown curls, which were semi-successfully drawn back from her face with a chubby red hair-tie. Her robes were immaculate, brand-new even, and she was carrying an enormous book.

"Who is she?" she asked.

Elisabeth spoke quickly, trying not to be intimidated. "My name's Elisabeth Saunderson. I'm… sort of a new student."

Harry spoke up. "She didn't get her letter until this year for some reason."

Hermione looked startled and fascinated. "That's absolutely bizarre," she muttered. "Why do you suppose that would happen?"

Elisabeth and Harry shrugged. Hermione sat down beside the ginger boy and stared at Elisabeth for a moment, taking it in, trying to solve the puzzle in her mind. Then she gasped and turned a little pink.

"Oh! How rude of me! I didn't introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger." She reached out to shake Elisabeth's hand. Elisabeth obliged. "Harry, I'm sure, you already know," she continued. "And Ron."

Elisabeth ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Actually…" she murmured.

Hermione turned to her friends with a look of utter disbelief and annoyance. Ron's ears turned pink.

Harry scratched his head. "I should have introduced him… Well… I mean, I _would_ have, but she…"

"You can't blame _her_ for anything!" Ron looked as though he was slowly putting two and two together.

"Wait… I was supposed to introduce myself?"

Hermione groaned. "_Yes_ you were supposed to introduce yourself, _Ronald_." She sighed, looking over at Elisabeth. "This is Ronald. Ron Weasley. He's the second youngest of the nicest family I know."

Ron's ears skipped pink and turned bright red this time.

"I was going to introduce myself eventually," he murmured.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You have to realize, Elisabeth. He's hopeless."

And Elisabeth did realize something.

She'd made her train friends.

* * *

><p><strong>There. Nice and edited. Now things will make more sense.<strong>

How am I doing? Do you like the story?  
>Do you have any questions?<br>Review to let me know.


	3. The Rivals

**Your Everyday Ordinary Witch  
><strong>An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>: The Rivals

* * *

><p>Harry, Ron and Hermione seemed to be the greatest of friends. As the seventh years queued up, waiting to head to the castle, Elisabeth admired and envied the familiar way they joked and jostled. She'd never had a proper group of her own friends before; back in Hove, she'd floated in and out of the groups of others.<p>

Besides, she'd always felt out of place with them. They'd all been regular people, with regular problems, and no magic to hide.

Next to her new acquaintances, Elisabeth noticed how nice it was to finally be _herself_: no secrets, no lies.

She looked up, and noticed the great, looming shadow that was Hogwarts. It was massive, towering over the grounds. And it was beautiful. In the darkness of early evening, with all of the windows lit up, it looked like something out of a Muggle greeting card. She wondered what it was like on the inside. She'd find out soon enough.

"Hey, Elisabeth?" It was Harry.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what House you're to be in?"

Elisabeth's eyes widened. "Actually, no. No idea."

He clapped a hand on her back. "Well, I hope it's Gryffindor."

Elisabeth blushed.

"What are you two going on about?" Hermione elbowed her way past Ron, who shouted "Hey! I'm standing here!"

"Just asking Elisabeth whether she knew her House yet," Harry said.

Hermione smiled. "Gryffindor. I can tell you're a Gryffindor."

Ron was craning his neck over Hermione's head. "Yeah, she's Gryffindor."

"Do you suppose she's going to get Sorted?" Hermione wondered.

Harry frowned. "Have you ever heard of someone getting Sorted late?"

The queue of students was moving slowly forward.

Hermione's eyes unfocused. "Actually yes. In _Hogwarts, A History_, there's mention of a few cases in which the Sorting was delayed. Usually historical turmoil was to blame. And though I suppose we _have_ faced considerable turmoil lately, it still doesn't explain why Elisabeth wasn't accepted to Hogwarts in her first year."

Elisabeth's forehead worry-wrinkled.

Hermione quickly smiled at her, grasping her shoulder.

"In any case, you can't be the first. There must be a history of other witches and wizards delaying their acceptance to Hogwarts. I'm sure you're not the first. Absolutely sure."

Elisabeth looked into Hermione's eyes. "If you say so…"

"Don't worry," Ron interjected. "Everything Hermione says is right. Bloody brilliant, she is."

Hermione turned a shade of pink and elbowed Ron again.

"_Ronald._"

Harry laughed.

Suddenly, someone shoved past him, causing him to lose his balance and stumble into Hermione and Elisabeth. The girls propped him up. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"Watch it, Potter," someone shouted.

Harry shouted back. "Shove off, Malfoy."

Elisabeth looked up to see a tall blonde boy with a nasty expression on his face.

"You should be thanking me, you know," he mentioned in an undertone. He spoke slowly, and his voice seemed tired. "I'm sure you've been dreaming of being on top of Granger for ages."

He started back off, blending into the queue.

Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked tired, too. Hermione rubbed his shoulder.

"That's it, Harry," she mumbled. Her face was bright red, no doubt due to Malfoy's comment. "Don't let him get to you. You know he's just doing that for show. He probably doesn't know what to do with himself now that everything's changed."

Ron was flushed bright red and muttering something._ "Nasty git."_

Hermione's frantic shushing was too late.

"Excuse me?" drawled Malfoy, peering back in their direction. He was surrounded by a small throng of people in robes lined with green and silver. Slytherins. All of them were staring at him, and he seemed to be aware of that fact. His eyes darted to a dark-haired girl beside him, then back over to Ron. He was quiet for a moment. Elisabeth thought she saw him take a deep breath. "I-Is Wheezy trying to say something?" he continued, his voice shaking a bit. "Why don't you say it to my face?"

Ron raised his voice, which was steady and clear. "I said you're a nasty git, Malfoy. Now bugger off."

"_Ron. Just ignore him,_" Hermione whispered.

But Malfoy was being pushed back toward them through the crowd, the group of Slytherins behind him. They seemed to be egging him on. "What was that?" he asked, his voice still unsteady. "I-I didn't quite hear you. I don't speak ... Weasel."

Elisabeth could see Ron's hand fisted in his robes, no doubt clutching his wand. Her heart started to pound. What was she in the middle of? Surely it wasn't severe enough to call for a duel. Malfoy just seemed to be posturing; he was clearly acting for an audience. Besides that, he looked almost scared.

Harry's eyes were still closed. "You know exactly what he said, Malfoy." His voice was loud but calm. "And you know you're a nasty git. You've always been a nasty git. I think you_ like_ being nasty. So shove off. Leave us alone."

Malfoy was now situated directly behind Harry. He was a bit taller than Harry.

"You know, Potter," he murmured, sounding strained. "This just isn't worth it." He looked down and noticed the Slytherins, still thronged around him, still looking up at him as though they hung on his every word. "M-Maybe I _am_ nasty," he continued. "But ... only to people who deserve it." He sounded extremely unsure of his words, but wrinkled his nose at the back of Harry's head. The Slytherins seemed satisfied.

Elisabeth noticed that Harry was taking a deep breath. "Get away from me, Malfoy," he muttered.

Malfoy swallowed. It seemed to be a nervous swallow.

"What is it, Potter?" he gasped. "Scared?"

Hermione tried to stop them, shouting something about "he didn't mean it," but Ron and Harry had pulled their wands out at the exact same moment. Harry whirled around, shoving the tip of his wand against Malfoy's neck, whose uneasy expression transformed into one of pure fear. His pasty skin turned even paler. The Slytherins scattered.

Harry sighed, lowering his wand. "I think I'll enjoy this year a lot more if you spare the performances," he said, staring directly at Malfoy, who was shaking.

A shrill female voice carried over to them. "What is the meaning of this? Can't this wait until the term starts, _at the very least_?"

Hermione looked up with wide eyes. "Professor!"

Ron fumbled his wand back into his pocket. So did Harry.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," he said. Malfoy seemed to cower next to him, though he still stood at his complete height.

"I didn't do anything!" Malfoy said, his voice quavering. "He pulled his wand on me! It was completely unprovoked!"

Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Yes, Draco," she said, sarcasm tinting her voice. "You've _never_ been a provocateur. Not once in your life." He deflated. "Harry, I expect more out of you."

Harry's shoulders slouched. "I suppose I can't really explain myself?"

McGonagall shook her head.

Draco suddenly flinched away, but McGonagall grabbed his arm.

"No. Come with me. All of you."

"All of us?" Elisabeth squeaked.

McGonagall looked down at her. For a moment she looked surprised, then she frowned. "Yes. All of you. Come this way."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Elisabeth and Draco broke off from the main queue of seventh years, following Professor McGonagall onto the grounds. The six of them began to hike up a faint trail, toward the castle that loomed in front of them. Harry looked subdued, but Ron seemed strangely pleased with himself. Draco looked as though he'd swallowed something particularly disgusting.

Hermione was beside Elisabeth, looking down at her wringing hands.

"I can't believe this. I just can't believe it. Getting in trouble before start of term."

Elisabeth's throat was dry. "Is it unusual?" she whispered.

Hermione laughed. McGonagall glared back at her, and she immediately stopped. She turned wide, rule-follower eyes to Elisabeth. Her voice was barely audible.

"They usually fight all the time here." She shot a nervous glance up at McGonagall. "But ... given what's happened this summer ... I'm not _really_ surprised, of _course_ Draco would want to keep up appearances ..." Hermione continued in an undertone, almost as though she was speaking to herself. "... It actually makes sense ... I should have expected it ... I should have been more prepared, of _course_ he'd feel he'd have to behave the same way to Harry ... of course ..."

Elisabeth blinked. She looked at the back of Draco's silver-blonde head.

"So he's a bully," she whispered, and Hermione coughed, hiding another laugh.

"The absolute worst," Hermione whispered back. "He's always been that way." She glanced up at McGonagall again, but the professor was busy finding her way through the darkness. "But I really thought he might get better after this summer... I really did … especially since ... " she broke off, shaking her head, mumbling something about Death Eaters.

Elisabeth only caught the end. "Wait. He was a ... ?"

Hermione nodded. "A terrible one."

"Terrible…?" Elisabeth shivered.

Hermione smiled, touching Elisabeth's shoulder. "Terrible _at_ it. He's a total coward." She rolled her eyes. "In case you couldn't tell."

"Why did he do it, then?"

Hermione's face darkened. "His whole family did."

Elisabeth frowned, glancing up at Professor McGonagall. "Haven't they mended their ways?"

"Of course," Hermione whispered. "That was the first thing they did. The Malfoys don't want to lose anything else. Harry was even called to defend Draco's mother, Narcissa, in court." Hermione's cheeks tinted pink. "She's the only reason Harry's still with us, really." She seemed to get lost for a moment. Then she started up again, glancing quickly at McGonagall. "But Draco has always been a bully. Ever since we were small." She shook her head. "He's an awful person. But I somehow hoped that, maybe, he would grow up. Eventually." She shook her head again. Elisabeth sighed.

"Some people never grow up."

Hiking across the grounds had become rather hard going. They were making their way up a slightly muddy slope.

Draco stepped on his robes and hissed. "Damn!"

"Excuse me?" came McGonagall's voice.

"These were brand new!"

"Well," said McGonagall, with a touch of humor, "next time, don't pick a fight."

Draco grumbled, and Ron snickered.

"Don't you laugh, Mr. Weasley!" said McGonagall. "You are just as culpable. You drew your wand."

"I _told_ him to just ignore him," Hermione murmured.

Elisabeth tripped over a root. "Ow."

Draco glared back at her. She stared up at him.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Better look ahead," she said. "You might trip on your robes again."

He quickly turned around.

Elisabeth's ankle throbbed.

"A bit faster, if you please," called McGonagall, "or I won't have your punishments sorted out in time for the Welcoming Feast."

Elisabeth's heart sank. Welcome to Hogwarts.

She was off to a _brilliant _start.

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><p><strong>Edited! Yay.<strong>

**If you read, please review!  
>You have no idea how happy reviews make me.<strong>


	4. The Great Hall

**Your Everyday Ordinary Witch  
><strong>An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: <strong>The Great Hall

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><p>Once inside, Professor McGonagall gestured to the right-hand wall of the Entrance Hall. A narrow stone doorway loomed, waiting. "All of you, in there."<br>The five disgruntled students began to file in slowly, Elisabeth at the back. McGonagall grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her around. "You're coming with me."

She practically dragged her across the hall, into a different Elisabeth had time to be surprised, she was sitting in a chair and facing a desk at which McGonagall was sitting.

"Hello, Miss Saunderson," she said, very businesslike.

Elisabeth swallowed. "H-Hello, Professor."

"Do you know why you're here?"

Elisabeth blinked. "You mean at Hogwarts?"

McGonagall nodded.

Elisabeth shook her head.

"Well," said the professor, "you have a right to know. It was all an accident."

Elisabeth's heart sank. "An accident?"

"Yes. I'm not sure why you never got your letter."

A wash of relief flooded through Elisabeth's entire body. "Ah," she whispered.

McGonagall continued. "It was meant to go out to you at the regular time, but it never did." She looked a little distraught, and suddenly seemed very old. "By the time we realized what had happened…" She pursed her lips, wringing her hands on the desk top. Her brow creased, and she lifted sad, sincere eyes to meet Elisabeth's. "We at Hogwarts are terribly sorry for our mistake. Terribly, terribly sorry. In any case, Albus absolutely insisted that you be allowed your seventh year, especially after all that's happened this summer. Thus," she gestured toward Elisabeth, sitting across the desk.

Then the professor smiled at her. It was a genuine smile.

Elisabeth smiled back, but still felt a little uneasy. She meant to thank Professor McGonagall, but instead, she asked: "is it okay that I'm here?"

"Oh!" McGonagall's voice quavered for a moment. "Of course it is, dear! You were meant to be here all along."

Elisabeth sighed. "But I haven't. I don't even belong to a House."

McGonagall's eyes lit up. "Which brings me to the other reason I brought you to this office." From her lap, she produced a ragged hat, which she placed in the center of the desk.

The Sorting Hat.

Elisabeth stared at it, awestruck.

"Go ahead," McGonagall said, all business. "Put it on."

Elisabeth reached out with shaky hands. She clutched the tattering brim of the hat, and lifted it delicately through the air. Then she set it slowly upon her head, as though it were a living creature. For all she knew, it was.

_What's this? A seventh year? _

Elisabeth gasped. It was just like her sisters had said.

_Yes, yes, I remember your sisters. Saunderson, isn't it? Well, this shouldn't be too hard…_

She wondered if she'd be in Ravenclaw, like Celenia.

_Oh, no. You're much more like the other one. And far too trusting for Rowena. Most certainly suited for…_

"…GRYFFINDOR."

McGonagall looked pleased.

"Wonderful." She removed the hat from Elisabeth's surprised head, squirreling it away in her brocaded stood. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must bring this," she patted the concealed hat, "to the Great Hall. Come with me, Miss Saunderson."

They exited the heavy door of the office, which opened to the streaming crowd now filling the hall. The mass of students quickly parted for Professor McGonagall to followed close behind her, but suddenly, McGonagall turned around.

"You go on and follow the other students," she said, over the noise in the hall. People were laughing, jostling past, shooting occasional frightened glances at the professor. She peered across the hall, toward the room containing Harry, Ron and Hermione. "I have a bit of other business to attend to."

Elisabeth's heart fluttered. Had McGonagall forgotten that she'd been there, too?

"Hermione tried to stop them, you know," Elisabeth said before she realized she was talking. "She doesn't deserve to be punished."

McGonagall sighed. "I know. But as they say, 'you are the company you keep.'"

"I was there, too."

"Oh, I recall. But you weren't a part of it. I _can_ tell the difference between guilty and innocent parties." She raised an eyebrow, looking down at Elisabeth.

"Unless you _want_ to be punished."

Elisabeth shook her head quickly.

McGonagall smiled a small smile. She nodded toward the crowd. "Follow the students." Then she struck across the hall, toward the other watched her go inside, shutting the door behind her.

_Poor Hermione._

Now that Professor McGonagall was gone, the students began crushing in around Elisabeth. She was caught up in the momentum, dragged by the crowd. Uncomfortable, she fell in line behind a clump of kids wearing Ravenclaw colors. Leave it to Elisabeth to make friends who immediately got in trouble and left her to fend for herself.

"Elisabeth!"

She looked up, confused.

Then she saw Hermione, shoving her way through some students.

"You didn't get punished!" Elisabeth cried, overjoyed.

"Not even a_ little_!" She was beaming, and fell in step beside Elisabeth, displacing a Hufflepuff. "McGonagall came in, pulled me aside, and let me off with a warning. But I don't think Ron and Harry will be so lucky," she murmured. "They never should have pulled their wands."

A pug-faced Slytherin girl bumped into them. Elisabeth looked over at her, surprised. The girl glared back at them, but didn't say a word.

"Pansy Parkinson," mumbled Hermione. The sleek black back of Pansy's head blended quickly into the crowd, vanishing through the glorious, arching entrance to the Great Hall. "She's mean as a snake." Hermione scoffed. "Serves Malfoy right."

"Do they date?"

"Presumably."

Elisabeth frowned. "It's so unfortunate," she sighed.

Hermione stared at Elisabeth, horrified. "_Why?_"

"That nasty people like that can find love."

"Oh," Hermione laughed. She touched Elisabeth's arm. "I guarantee it isn't love."

And then they were walking through the grand archway.

They were inside the Great Hall.

Elisabeth looked around, filled with wonder.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Oh yes."

Elisabeth was looking around at all the House tables. They were decorated with the appropriate colors: green and silver, yellow and black, blue and bronze.

"I'm a Gryffindor," Elisabeth murmured, looking over at the table decorated red and gold.

Hermione smiled. "She Sorted you, didn't she?" Elisabeth nodded. "I wondered why you weren't in the room with us," Hermione continued. "Of course she Sorted you."

She looped her arm around Elisabeth's. "Come on," she said. "I'll take you to the table."

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><p><strong>Yes.<br>Dumbledore is alive.**

(Hooray! I've edited all of the existing chapters!  
>Now business can go according to plan.)<p> 


	5. The Gryffindor Table

**Your Everyday Ordinary Witch  
><strong>An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

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><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong> The Gryffindor Table

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><p>As she walked slowly through the Hall, her arm looped through Hermione's, Elisabeth noticed how each House table was already jam-packed with chattering students. Most everyone was trimmed with robes bearing their House colors, aside from a few here and there who simply wore black.<p>

The Slytherin table was first on the left after entering the Hall. Elisabeth noticed that fewer students seemed to be seated there, especially when compared with the rapidly approaching Ravenclaw table. As she tried to make a quick headcount for comparison, a handsome Slytherin boy winked at her. She blinked, staring at him. He was sitting at the head of the table, completely alone. He seemed about her age, and had chestnut hair and spicy green eyes. Before she could look away, he waggled his eyebrows at her. Mortified, she moved closer to Hermione, unable to finish her headcount.

Though she was more than certain they'd passed the table, Elisabeth didn't dare to look up for the next few moments. She was terrified that the boy at the head of the Slytherin table would still be waggling his eyebrows.

"We're almost there," Hermione said, her tone quiet and soothing. Elisabeth was reminded strongly of Celenia. She finally lifted her head.

A few people at the nearby Hufflepuff table were looking up at her. One blonde girl with large pink cheeks eyed her up and down, then whispered something to the boy next to her. He eyed her, too. Elisabeth was tempted to look at the floor again, but was distracted when Hermione suddenly piped up.

"Here we are!" she cried.

Elisabeth surveyed the rapidly approaching Gryffindor table, feeling many more pairs of eyes begin to stare her down. She started to blush, and Hermione quickly whispered "don't worry about them. They'll love you."

And suddenly, they were at the head of the table. Elisabeth glanced apprehensively over the long sea of unfamiliar faces, all of which were staring up at her.

"Everyone," called Hermione, beaming out at them, "this is Elisabeth Saunderson, our newest Housemate. I think she needs a proper Gryffindor welcome."

Most of the students beamed back, lifting their glasses and cheering out things such as "Welcome to Gryffindor!" and "Hello, Elisabeth!"

Elisabeth blushed again, smiling at everyone, nodding, trying to be friendly. "Thank you so much," she mumbled, feeling shy.

"She looks a bit old for a first-year," came a bubbly female voice.

Elisabeth turned toward the source. A girl her age was quickly making her way down the long table. She was tiny, cute, and freckled, with hair that was flaming red and very short. She walked directly up to Elisabeth, and appraised her with sparkling blue eyes.

"Ginny Weasley," she said, smiling and extending a hand.

Elisabeth immediately shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Ginny."

Ginny laughed. "You're so polite!"

"Well, I do try," Elisabeth said, feeling her cheeks pink again.

Ginny's pretty eyes flickered between Elisabeth's. "You know, I think I like you."

Elisabeth laughed. If she hadn't been blushing enough before, she was now.

"Ginny is Ron's sister," Hermione volunteered.

"Speaking of which, where _is _my brother?" Ginny craned her neck, looking around the Hall. "I haven't seen head or tail of him since the train ride."

Hermione sighed. "Malfoy picked a fight with him. And Harry."

Ginny shook her head and groaned. "They're all delinquents." Then she suddenly reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand as well as Elisabeth's. "Well, we might as well get the two of you seated, anyway. Come this way."

Elisabeth felt it strange to be dragged across the room by a girl so small. Curious faces blurred by. Then, before she could think, she was sitting at the table, facing a small boy who, nonetheless, couldn't have been more than a year younger than her. He seemed extremely happy.

"I'm Colin, Colin Creevey," he blurted, stretching a hand across the table. Elisabeth took it, too shocked to do anything else. "Pleased to meet you," he continued in a rush. "This is my brother, Dennis."

An even tinier boy reached enthusiastically across the table. As Elisabeth was still shaking Colin's hand, she stared at it in confusion.

"Oh, come off it, Creeveys," someone chided good-naturedly. Elisabeth suddenly noticed that it was Ginny, who'd placed herself in the seat between Elisabeth and Hermione. "She's new," Ginny was saying in a stern voice, smiling at the boys. "Let her get adjusted before you assault her."

Colin withdrew his hand, then began beaming at both of them. Before Elisabeth could pull her own hand away, Dennis caught it and shook it enthusiastically.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he chirped.

"Alright, alright," Ginny called, waving his arm off the table. He just grinned at her, showing all of his teeth.

She sighed and turned to Elisabeth.

"You'll have to forgive them. They can't help it. They're permanently excited."

Colin and Dennis offered a synchronized nod of agreement.

* * *

><p>Elisabeth found that it was actually a relief to be seated near the Creevey brothers. She hardly needed to contribute anything to the conversation, which was relaxing, since she wasn't sure what to say, and every time she began to show signs of becoming overwhelmed, Ginny would step in and give the boys a gentle (sometimes literal) slap on the wrist.<p>

At a quiet part in the middle of the Sorting, Dennis suddenly gave a very loud whisper.

"Where do you suppose Harry is?"

Elisabeth tried not to look at all of the faces that turned around to stare in their direction. Hermione's mouth pursed and she stared at Dennis with wide eyes. Ginny bit back a giggle.

"Wait 'till the Sorting's over, Dennis," hissed Hermione. Dennis shrunk back a bit, but he didn't seem any less curious.

Finally, when "Walth, Bathilda" had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, Elisabeth looked up to notice Ron and Harry creeping down along the Gryffindor table, one on either side. Great tureens of meats, breads, and puddings were materializing on the table, causing Colin to quickly withdraw his arms. She barely had time to be relieved about this before Harry sat down beside her, clapping her on the back.

"I knew you'd be Gryffindor," he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back. It was nice to see a familiar face.

Then Ginny was leaning over Elisabeth's entire body to speak to Harry. "So I hear you got into a little altercation with Draco. How was that? Was it like 'old times?' Did he call you something childish and derogatory?"

Harry laughed. "I think Ron got the brunt of the name-calling this go-round."

Across the table, Ron rolled his eyes. "I can't believe that filthy git. Still picking fights with us, after everything that's happened? McGonagall gave us an earful, but it wasn't us that caused it… bloody Malfoys…"

Harry caught Ron's eye with a stern look just as Hermione hissed, "Ronald. Stop it."

His ears turned red and he began ferociously spooning potatoes onto his plate. "I can't just erase the past six years, you know. I have a lot of bad memories."

"We _all_ do," Hermione sighed.

Ginny groaned, still sprawled across an increasingly uncomfortable Elisabeth. "Let's just eat and forget about _Draco_ for now. This is Elisabeth's first Welcoming Feast, after all! Her only one, even. She needs to enjoy it!"

And with that she withdrew herself, beginning to spoon bread pudding onto Elisabeth's plate.

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><p><strong>Tell me how it's going.<br>I'd love to hear from you!**


	6. The Common Room

**Your Everyday Ordinary Witch  
><strong>An Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfiction

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><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong> The Common Room

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><p>"… And I'm sure that the dormitory has rearranged itself for you already. Hogwarts does that, you know; it rearranges." Ginny's blue eyes sparkled up at Elisabeth as she dragged her down the corridor toward Gryffindor Tower, quickly causing the two of them to get far ahead of the rest of the group. "Don't worry; I'll convince someone to let me take the bed next to you."<p>

Elisabeth smiled down at her, feeling a bit awkward due to their height difference and the increasing absence of the others. She looked back, catching an amused glance from Harry. "Erm... Ginny, don't you think we should wait for-"

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about them." Her hand clasped tighter, and Elisabeth stumbled as Ginny tugged her closer. "I'd much rather us get there first, to make sure we can sort out your bed arrangements."

"Do the seventh years have their own dormitory?"

"Of course!"

Something wasn't adding up. Elisabeth frowned. "But … aren't you a sixth year?"

"Oh!" Ginny laughed. Her laughter was genuine and actually heartwarming, which surprised Elisabeth. She'd never experienced such laughter; only heard legend of it. "I got moved up," Ginny was saying, unmistakable pride in her voice. "Excellent marks. It would have been a 'crime to keep me back,' McGonagall said."

Little Ginny craned her head to see how far they'd gone from the others, her flaming hair swirling around her face. She grinned, seemingly satisfied, then raised her eyes to meet Elisabeth's, who was shocked to see that all the humor and mischief had vanished from her gaze.

"I don't know why, but I want to tell you something I've never told anyone else." She was whispering. Suddenly, Elisabeth was a confidante. "Do you mind?"

"No, of course not," she whispered back. "If you want to tell me, you should." Elisabeth paused, before adding: "but please do keep in mind that we've just met."

Ginny giggled. "You say that as though I've forgotten!" Her small hand squeezed Elisabeth's in a warm way that had nothing at all to do with tugging. "Remember, I quite like you. I could tell that immediately." She giggled again, and Elisabeth smiled a little. In spite of her aching arm, she really quite liked Ginny, too.

"Well, then, by all means. Tell me."

Ginny glanced back again, then up at Elisabeth. "Just make sure you don't tell them anything I'm about to say."

"Of course not."

Ginny suddenly looked down at her fast-moving feet. "… it all makes me a bit nervous."

"What does?" Elisabeth wondered.

"Being a seventh year. Advancing so quickly. … There's a part of me that worries, even as much as I'd like to be completely confident … and I know the others wouldn't believe me if I told them. But you being new and all, I feel like, maybe, you can understand… "

And indeed, Elisabeth understood. But she was also surprised. Over the course of their short acquaintanceship, Elisabeth had become quite certain of the fact that this small redhead was the most self-assured person she'd ever met.

The two of them were inadvertently silent, digesting Ginny's words. The sound of their rapid footsteps echoed in the corridor around them, and the laughter of their lagging friends drifted to their ears.

Elisabeth was surprised to hear her own voice. "I do understand. Completely."

Ginny sighed. "Of course, I have no right to feel sorry for myself. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be a first-year seventh-year…" She squeezed Elisabeth's hand again. "But you don't worry too much, either. I'll help you."

Elisabeth smiled down at her. "Thank you."

Ginny nodded. Then the mischief flooded back into her eyes, and she clasped Elisabeth's hand in a way that denoted a fresh wave of tugging. "Come on; let's see how far ahead we can get!"

Elisabeth steeled herself, and the two of them began to dash down the rest of the corridor, leaving the others in the dust. They couldn't help but giggle as they turned the corner. They passed over staircases and under archways; even up a peculiarly steep and curling corridor that seemed to send them back in the opposite direction.

Finally, after a somewhat dangerously winding staircase, the two of them stumbled into the resulting hallway and came panting to a halt. Ginny laughed as she tried to catch her breath.

Elisabeth gasped, still giggling a bit. "Can you believe how far ahead we are?"

"I know! I couldn't hear them behind us anymore after that third staircase! Capital effort, Elisabeth."

Elisabeth blushed, but bowed for comedic effect. "Thank you, thank you."

Ginny bowed too, adopting a pompous tone. "Yes, of course, my pleasure," she drawled, her hair touching the floor. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, both bowed low. Then, faces red, burst into a fresh wave of laughter. Elisabeth fell, rolling onto the floor.

"Quick, quick," Ginny panted, still laughing. "Get up; we have to get you a bed before they all get here and distract you."

Though she was giggling too hard to breathe properly, Elisabeth managed to get to her knees, accepting Ginny's helpful hand. It never ceased to amaze her how strong this tiny girl was. Then the two of them stood, brushing the dust off of their clothes and pointedly not looking at one another.

"That," Ginny said, pointing and gulping down the threat of another giggle, "is the Fat Lady. Come with me."

An impressively large painting in a decorative gilded frame sprawled across the wall. Within sprawled an equally impressive woman, looking as distinguished as she was large. "Password?" she demanded as the two girls approached.

"Mutatis mutandis," Ginny announced.

After giving the two of them a somewhat condescending look, the Fat Lady nodded curtly, and the portrait itself swung forward out of the wall, like an absurdly decorated door. As it swung, Elisabeth peered around it, past the discolored backside of the canvas.

Behind the portrait was a large, circular hole in the wall, smoothed around the edges from hundreds of years of students' fumbling hands and feet. And past this circular doorway was one last corridor, warm-looking and glowing with the light of flickering candle sconces.

Elisabeth smiled. "The common room."

Ginny stepped through the doorway, and Elisabeth followed, moving into the welcoming candlelit hallway.

A rush of warmth overwhelmed her. The outside corridor hadn't been particularly cold, but this one was still warmer, almost as though it wasn't made of stone. Elisabeth couldn't stop smiling. Her heart felt so full that it almost hurt.

"I can't believe I'm finally here," she whispered.

Ginny turned and smiled back at her, her eyes genuinely warm. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Elisabeth nodded. "Yes. Oh yes."

She looked up at the sconces on the walls; admired the tiny flickering flames of the candles. Ahead arched the red-glowing doorway to the common room, welcoming and warm. Elisabeth's heart pounded as she closed her eyes and stepped through it, feeling the sense of the room all around her. She took a deep breath.

"Oh, open your eyes, silly," said Ginny, touching Elisabeth's shoulder.

So she did.

And she looked around, at the towering windows, the enormous, orange flickering fireplace; the fantastic Gryffindor tapestries, and the well-loved squashy armchairs, and she realized something.

She was home.

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><p><strong>This song fits the common room scene perfectly, I think:<br>**"My Love Is Always There" - Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows: Part 1 Soundtrack

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><p>I'll admit it, I wish I could be a student at Hogwarts, too. But after all, isn't that why we create stories? To experience something new, and perhaps realistically impossible?<p>

**I hope you're enjoying the tale.**  
><strong>Please do review!<strong>


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